


A Safe Space

by Funkymonkeyerin



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Bondage, Dom Jesse McCree, Dom/sub, Gags, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rope Bondage, Sub Jack Morrison
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-30
Updated: 2018-08-30
Packaged: 2019-07-04 18:21:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15846807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Funkymonkeyerin/pseuds/Funkymonkeyerin
Summary: The shadows of death and the haunting images of battle from his years of military service plague Jack Morrison's mind. There's really only one way to help him come down from the high of a mission, and it's never an easy one.





	A Safe Space

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to my dealer, onesmolhurt/jaspurrlock

The rhythmic thudding of heavy boots echoed in the narrow hallway, the noise bouncing off walls to give the illusion of multiple footsteps. The tricks that Jack Morrison’s mind played on him told of a second person in the hall, no, an enemy, which raised the hair on the back of his neck even when his logical mind tried to calm his pounding heart. He knew it was just his own echoes. He knew he was alone. 

Harsh fluorescent lighting and the lack of windows only aided in Jack’s worries. He felt trapped and his palms were clammy with the need for a release; an escape. Having just landed in the ORCA from his team’s most recent mission, he had departed the flight hangar with a curt nod to his team. The mission debrief would be hours from now, and until then he needed to separate himself from the cause of his anxiety.

It took hours, sometimes days, to come down off the adrenaline high that Overwatch missions caused him. Being in a situation that requires you to be on edge, your attention strung between enemy movement, objective goals and team action… it drains you. Even after all these years of a constant stream of tactical missions or civilian rescues, Jack never found a quick way to come down from the high. 

Well, at least not an easy way.

A large double doorway with and an illuminated ‘EXIT’ sign ended the hall, Jack’s hand resting on the bar handle. His fingers gripped around the cold metal and he released a breath he didn’t know he was holding. With a push the door swung outwards and a streak of sunlight hit his eyes, eyes squinting to only exaggerate the deep wrinkles set in the corners of his eyes. The air was thick with humidity but set more naturally in his lungs rather than the filtered and cold air of the Gibraltar base.

Stepping out onto a raised platform walls of metal and fiberglass towered above him, the keep that held the scientists, researchers and soldiers of the Overwatch team. Recall brought back their most dedicated, some would say naïve, members of the team, but most stayed away for fear of repercussions of global laws. Many of the thick windows of the base were still shut off, but the base was once again coming alive with the scurrying of a few scientists from corridor to corridor and the distant sound of trainees practicing on the target fields. Jack made his way down the platform, following the dirt path around the main building that trailed close to the cliff’s edge.

The steady hum of the nearby ocean set to calm Jack’s nerves, his fists tightening and relaxing in time with the crashing waves over the rocks below. He continued the path on the way back to his quarters, debriefing far enough into the future so that a much-needed shower and change of clothes could be arranged. Jack passed into the shadow of a crossing bridge that connected the hangar to another part of the facility.

“’Bout time you showed up, old man.” said a drawled voice above him.

Startled, Morrison turned on his heel to face the source, but even as his face moved up to face the noise his heart sang, for Jack knew the sound of Jesse McCrees’s voice, every inflection and syllable a piece of his heart. 

Jack chuckled to himself quietly, running a hand across the growing, patchy stubble on his face. 

“I tried to get out as quickly as I could, but you know how much Lena likes to drag out the unloading process.” Jack said

“Well o’ course I do,” Jesse said, making his way across the bridge and down to a wide staircase connecting to the lower area. “I just figured you would of made a bee-line outta there before you got caught up.” 

“You know I tried, Jess,” Jack said, a smile creeping over his worn face. “I don’t want to spend anymore time on a mission than needed. Especially when I don’t even have you there to pester me.”

McCree gave a toothy smile, removing the cigar nub from between his teeth. Now side-by-side with his commander, Jesse laid his hand lightly on the back of Jack’s neck, squeezing slightly. 

“Let’s get ya to your room. You know I like things a little dirty, but you’re wearing more grime than my boots.” Jesse said with a chuckle. 

The two walked together and talked about Jack’s most recent mission, their footfalls nearly in sync the entirety of their trek across the combat base to the living quarters. Occasionally, a recruit or a lower-ranking official would stop to salute the strike commander, a motion often dismissed politely by Jack. As they entered the elevator that would take them to the floor of their accommodations, Jack rested against the metal railing that circled the elevator’s interior.

“I figured you would have been busy with your own preparations,” Jack said, thumb jerking in the direction of the hangar bay. “Don’t you leave out pretty soon yourself?”

“Tomorrow, actually,” Jesse said, a brief flash of disappointment crossing Jack’s eyes. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t spend the time I have left doting on you.” A smile pulls the corner of Jesse’s mouth up around his cigar nub. 

The elevator settled onto their floor, Jesse extending an arm to motion Jack forward first. Morrison scoffed, but followed the motion out into the window-lined hallway. Even as the strike commander, Jack’s personal quarters were not lavish by any means. Six rooms occupied this floor of the living quarters, the farthest on the left belonging to Jack. Jack’s hand mindlessly finds its way into place for the security scanner, the pad beeping and glowing green before the doorway disappeared upwards into the wall.

A set of motion-sensored lights illuminate the edges of the room with a dull, warm glow. Jack’s eyes instinctively scanned the corners and shadowy parts of the room, checking for a possible ambush. Jesse made no such hesitation, making his way over to the edge of the bed, plopping his rear onto the large mattress while pulling on the strings of his boots. 

“Will you be here awhile?” Jack asked, finally stepping into the room. “I want to clean up a bit before debriefing.”

“Take your time darlin’,” Jesse replied. “I ain’t going nowhere without you today.”

Jack smiled down at the floor, his hand running across the back of his neck, missing the feeling of his partner’s hand there. Jack shuffles out of his iconic ‘76’ jacket, tossing it onto the nearby sofa. He pulled his feet out of his boots and placed them by the room’s entrance before sluggishly working his way to the shower. 

“You sure you won’t leave?” 

“I promise, Jackie,” Jesse said, locking eyes with his commander, boots finally falling to the bedroom floor. “You couldn’t shake me if you tried.”

Jack turns and disappears behind the bathroom door, hands working away the rest of his clothes. His eyes scanned the small facility before stepping into the glass walls of his cramped shower. 

The steaming water helps to release some of the tension in Jack’s body, the water’s stream only lightly stinging some of the more superficial cuts and bruises that cover his torso and back. This time he came away fairly unmarked, the only physical take-aways from this mission being a light dusting of shrapnel and blunt trauma from heavy or bad falls.  
Even as a man in his mid-50’s, Jack still maintained a fairly toned body, only his slightly softer stomach giving much indication to his aging physique. Scalding droplets of water cascaded his back and hair, Jack’s hand scrubbing his shoulders and torso to hopefully cleanse the memory of the last firefight. It never worked, but his fingernails continued to dig and scrub into his flesh to rid every last trace of the smoke, dust and ash that fell onto him. Memories of children screaming in burning buildings, dead civilians laying in the streets like discarded newspapers, the way his own bullets took the last breath of militants to young to understand what they were dying for…

A sharp knock on the bathroom door brought him back, finally feeling the now cold water pounding against him. He tried to recalibrate himself, wondering how much time he lost to his own mind. Jack didn’t feel the rawness of his own flesh under the continued scratching, his arms now bleeding and fingernails bloodied with his own obsessive cleanse. Water mixed with droplets of blood as it swirled into the drain.

“C’mon Jackie…” said Jesse’s voice from outside the door, a soft and soothing melody to his words. “I know you aughta be clean by now.” Jack could feel Jesse’s sad eyes even with a door between them.

“Yeah, I’m done. Sorry about that.” Jack replied, shifting to turn the shower handles off. Jack could hear McCree stepping five, six paces away from the door, but still close enough that he knew that Jesse was going to wait until he exited. 

Upon closer inspection only a few of the scratches Jack had caused had warranted the drawing of blood. He toweled himself dry, mussing his white hair into a spikey mess while gently dabbing off the wounds. Red streaks now covered his white towels, just another reminder to Jack of the many mistakes he continues to make with himself. Now fully dry, save for his messy hair, he places the towel like a wrap around his waist. With a sigh he flicks off the bathroom lights and opens the still humid bathroom to his living quarters.  
As predicted, Jesse stood only a few feet away from the door. Leaning his lower back against a counter in Jack’s kitchenette, Jesse ran his eyes across the commander’s body. Eyes flicked from the old scars across Jack’s face and chest to the new scratches present on his body. Jack knew this assessment process now, letting McCree’s eyes scan him intently as he crossed the room to his bed, now lovingly covered and displayed with a a variety of bonds, rope and toys. If this routine once surprised Jack, he doesn’t remember when.  
Jack stopped as his shins hit the firm mattress, feeling Jesse’s form taking its place directly behind him.

McCree placed a calloused hand on either side of Jack’s hips, his lips hovering over the slant of his commander’s neck. 

“You can’t keep doing this, Jackie.” Jesse said into Jack’s skin, voice almost a whisper with their proximity. “There’s not gonna be enough of you to go around soon enough.”

Jack gave a sad smile; one Jesse could only feel and not see. He turned around to face his partner, hands moving to their place on the sides of Jesse’s face, fingers tangling in McCree’s sideburns. Jack tilted his head up and placed a single soft, lingering kiss on the lips of his anchor. Even just the briefest of contact felt like a waterfall of warmth to the hardened soldier.

“Someone’s got to do it, Jess. It’s either us or some other poor fool.” Jack said then sighed, placing his forehead against McCree’s chest. 

Jesse lifted one hand up to the back of Jack’s neck, gripping his hair firmly and tilting it back slowly, eliciting a small groan from the commander. Neck exposed, pale flesh dusted with light stubbled, Jesse buried his face into the throat of his partner lightly pulling and nibbling with his teeth as he moved from the base of his jaw and kissed his way around the map that was Jack Morrison. 

“Then let someone else take the beating for a change,” Jesse said between kisses and bites into Jack’s neck. “You’ve done your time, and I’m getting there m’self.”

Jack’s eyelids flutter with the barrage of contact he was now experiencing. His throat bobbed with each swallow of nervous energy, only creating more contact as his adam’s apple brushed into the path of McCree’s mouth and its onslaught of increasingly needy and forceful bites. A low pool of heat was beginning to crawl its way into Jack’s stomach.

“What do you think I’d do instead of this, Jess?” Jack questioned, his own hands wandering over Jesse’s clothed torso. “It’s all I know.”

McCree’s mouth remained in the cradle of Jack’s neck, but his marking stopped temporarily. Jesse huffed a warm breath into Jack’s shoulder, knowing his defeat. This wasn’t the first time they had this conversation. It wouldn’t be the last. 

“I trust ya Jack,” Jesse said, pulling back to look his commander in the eyes. “But you know this doesn’t have to keep up forever.”

With a chaste kiss Jack sealed the conversation with Jesse, stroking a thumb over his partner’s lips. He gave Jesse a sad smile. What Jesse couldn’t see was the pain in Jack’s heart, knowing that his years of service would most likely only by marked once he was killed in action. It wasn’t a thought he liked to entertain for long.

“Ar’right, fine. I ain’t getting’ nowhere, I see that.” Jesse smirked sarcastically. “Let’s just unwind ya before ya have to go.” 

Jesse switched places with Jack, now himself sitting on the edge of the bed. With Jack facing him and McCree level with his navel, Jesse began placing warm kisses across his toned hips, edging precariously close to the still-wrapped towel. Jack leaned into the touch, running a hand absently through Jesse’s messy hair. Jesse ran his hands up Jack’s thighs, rubbing some of the still present moisture from his shower into his skin. His fingers traced some of Jack’s more prominent scars, finally resting his hands onto Morrison’s ass. 

“Ya sure ya got time for this?” Jesse said with a smirk looking up into Jack’s eyes. “Ya know I don’t much like lending ya out to the big wigs.” 

Jack let out a chuckle, placing a single kiss on Jesse’s forehead. Jack’s nerves were already melting away with the anticipation of their session.

“I’m all yours right now, cowboy.”

That was all the confirmation he needed. 

Jesse pushed his hands up to shake the towel away from Jack’s body, his pale flesh and growing erection pushing precariously close to McCree’s face. 

“On your knees, soldier,” Jesse commanded with a devilish smile and a wicked glint in his eyes.

There was no objection or hesitation as Jack lowered onto his knees ceremoniously, resting on the heels of his feet, now situated between McCree’s legs. Jesse grabbed Jack’s chin with a forceful hand, turning his head sharply in either direction to better view his companion. 

“You know the drill, Jackie,” McCree said. “Colors for limits, your name for a hard stop.”

Jack nodded his head in agreement. Jesse raised an eyebrow at the action.

“I didn’t quite hear you, soldier,” Jesse said in a low voice, fingernails digging into the skin where Jack’s chin was being held.

“Y-yes. Yes, sir.” 

“Better,” McCree said, dropping Jack’s chin abruptly, beginning to reach behind him for various accoutrements and coming back with a bundle of black, silken rope in his grasp.

“Put your arms up and keep your eyes shut.”

Jack did as commanded, letting Jesse work the now loose rope around his neck, then his body, occasionally feeling a knot or a tightness across his form indicating the shape of the harness being constructed. It felt like a puzzle every time, wondering what the final art form would look like once Jesse tied the last piece. 

With an instruction of “Arms behind your back”, Jack held his arms together horizontal across his lower back, feeling the extension of the rope now attaching to his wrists. The binds enclosed his limbs, tightening and pulling with each movement of Jesse’s quick fingers. Jack shifted, every miniscule movement sending chills up his body with the rub of the smooth rope across his sensitive skin.

Jesse rose from his position on the edge of the bed, now standing behind the still-kneeling Jack. With a leading tug upward, Jesse pulled Jack to his feet, fingers running under the various lines of rope to check for proper tightness. Satisfied with his work, Jesse pushed Jack onto the bed earning a brief exclamation from the bound subject, landing face-first with no way to stop his fall. 

Now bent over the bed, ass exposed and erection painfully strained into the sheets of the bed, Jack flushed with embarrassment, although not a feeling he inherently hated. Jesse bent Jack’s legs so his knees were perched on the edge of the bed, now working deftly to wrap Jack’s legs together with a second rope, this one red in color.

Jack tested his bonds as Jesse worked by flexing and relaxing his body, starting with his shoulders and working his way down. The constriction and release of his muscles helped to ease the now-subsiding anxieties in his mind and the distractions of his mind that kept returning to the battlefield. He was here, now. With Jesse. He is Jesse’s like this. He was safe.

The movement stopped, and Jack shifted his head away from the hot spot his heavy breathing had created in the sheets. Eyes still closed, he tried to listen for what Jesse’s movements could predict, but even after all these years it was still difficult to understand the exact pattern Jesse adhered to, if any. 

Behind Jack, Jesse stood away from his latest art work, admiring his handiwork with a grin. Jesse peeled off his fitted tee and jacket while surveying the scene. Strike Commander Jack Morrison, naked as the day he was born, face furrowed in concentration, ass exposed and erection nearly lifting his body of the mattress. It was a sight that never got old. 

“Can you move yourself, soldier?” Jesse asked condescendingly, moving now to reposition himself between the spread but bound legs of Jack.

“No, sir.” Jack responded, a small pool of moisture accumulated on the sheets under his mouth from his breath. 

“Well, that’s a mighty shame. We got to put you to some use at least, private.” Jesse grabbed ahold of Jack’s bound wrists, pulling him up and flush with his bare body.

Balanced only on his knees, Jack knew that Jesse was supporting most of his body weight. Looking down, his face lit like a fire as he watched his own cock twitch, now free from being pressed into the sheets. A small bead of precum rolled down his shaft. 

“I’ll never understand how I got the prettiest private in Overwatch to act as my personal fuck toy,” Jesse said, teeth pulling on the skin of Jack’s neck. Setting Jack down onto his calves, Jesse stepped onto the bed in front of Jack’s face which hit a little below groin level. 

“Look at me when I’m talking to you, soldier.” Jesse said, resting his metal hand on the back of Jack’s head, pressing his face into McCree’s own growing erection. Jesse smirked as the fingers from one hand unclasped his large metal belt buckle, sliding the leather out from his waistband slowly and methodically, watching Jack’s eyes following every movement he made. He undid the button to his jeans, now sliding the waist of his pants to below hip level. His tight-fitting black boxer briefs clung to his strained cock, Jack’s face being forcefully rubbed against it. If Jack’s face didn’t give away his enjoyment, his leaking erection sure did. 

“Open” was the only command Jesse gave then, sliding his flesh thumb into Jack’s hot mouth. Jack swirled his tongue around the appendage, sucking lightly and moaning into the salty taste of skin. When Jesse receded, a thin trail of saliva followed.

Jesse lowered the hem of his underwear just enough so it sat underneath his aching cock, gripping the shaft in his hand to keep Jack from touching him just yet. 

“Now private, usually I tend to keep this type of thing to myself but…” Jesse trailed off, lightly slapping Jack’s lips with the head of his dick. “Ya have such a pretty hole I don’t think I can help myself. Would ya like that, too?” Jesse’s mouth stretches into an antagonizing smirk.

“Yes, sir. P-please let me.” Jack replied, lips quivering at the proximity of his prize, the heat of Jesse’s cock ever present. Jack’s eyes look up to plead with his captor. 

“Don’t say I never did nothing for ya,” Jesse quipped, then forcefully shoved himself into Jack’s mouth. Jack gagged on the sudden intrusion, but his eyes rolled upwards with the mixture of satisfaction over the heat, the taste and the attention he was now earning.

Jesse grabbed a fistful of Jack’s damp hair, forcing him to bob up and down on his strained hard-on. Jack moaned a low growl in the back of his throat between the wet pounding of flesh into his mouth. He danced his tongue around Jesse’s shaft, closing his lips around the base to suck. Jesse’s face was skyward and crooned above Jack quietly, humming his delight with Jack’s performance as his fingers only gripped tighter into his hair. Jack could taste the salty precum of Jesse’s excitement, his own ignored cock begging for release by pooling onto the sheets below. His muscles strained against the restraints that tied his wrists and legs, each confined movement digging into his flesh and reminding him how helpless he was in the situation. Jack was utterly and totally lost in that moment.

McCree looked down and watched his partner unravel, eyes tightly closed and face lost in concentration. Every circle of Jack’s tongue across the head of his cock, ever time he hit the back of Jack’s throat with his thrusts were nothing in comparison to the pleasure of having his strike commander bound and helpless before him. Jesse could do anything, whatever he wanted and Jack would be helpless… but that wasn’t the point of their sessions, and he knew that. Jack needed to feel helpless, given a chance to be at a loss of power. Having the weight of multiple lives at stake with your every decision on the battlefield needed to be counteracted some way. This was Jack’s way. It just so happened to work out for both of them.

Jesse pulled himself away from Jack’s mouth, a low moan trickling from Jack. Jesse hovered his cock just close enough to Jacks lips that his mouth pawed for the fixation again, drool falling haphazardly to the bed below. 

“Now look and see what you’ve done,” Jesse said, leaning back to admire the collection of fluids that Jack had pooled onto the sheets, a mixture of saliva and precum spread across. Jack made no such movement to see the mess he created, looking only intently and longingly into the Jesse’s eyes. “Well, you’re gonna have to clean this up yourself, solider, but I might as well show you what a mess looks like first.” 

Jesse shook out of his pants and boxers finally, tossing them unceremoniously to the ground after slapping the head of his erection across Jack’s mouth. Jesse. bent down from his standing position on the bed to retrieve a hollow rubber ball gag from the sheets, multiple holes cut into its face. Jack eyed the toy as it was placed before him, mouth wide. 

Jesse fastened it to him, Jack’s teeth gripping the placed ball, just large enough so his lips couldn’t close.

Satisfied with his handwork, Jesse stepped down from the bed and stood behind Jack once more. 

“You really are a pretty piece a’ work, solider.” Jesse said, hands trailing down Jack’s sides and playing with the restraints. Jesse pulled and tugged on different areas of the restraints, seeing where it cut into Jack’s body and how much of a groan it dragged out of him. 

“Hlease commander, I-..” Jack began through his gag, before Jesse cut him off. 

Jesse’s hand violently gripped a handful of Jack’s hair, causing a yelp from the older man. Jesse’s cold metal hand wrapped around his throat pulling him flush against his body, his mouth finding purchase as he bit into Jack’s ear. 

“You what, exactly, soldier?” Jesse growled, grip tightening over Jack’s throat. Jack moaned into the tightness, saliva running down the sides of his mouth and over the metal of Jesse’s hand. “Did I say you could speak out of turn?” 

“No hur, but hlease-“ but before Jack could finish, Jesse bent his body over, face pushed harshly into the sheets. 

“You keep making noises without my say-so, and I don’t much like that,” McCree said, eyeing the saliva that now coated the fingers of his metal hand. Jack’s ass was completely exposed, legs folded under him and back arched with his wrists sitting nicely on top. Jesse nudged Jack’s legs apart further, an action happily taken as he began to thumb over Jack’s entrance with his cooled fingers.

Jack moaned and twisted below him as Jesse began to prod his way into Jack with his prosthesis, the cool metal accentuating the touch as the perfect foil to Jack’s flushed body. Just one knuckle, twisting and prodding and stretching his perfect hole, then another knuckle and soon another finger accompanied the first. Jesse placed kisses across his ass, bites accompanying on his hips and outer thighs. His fingers scissored inside of Jack, every motion dragging out a muffled moan and twin reaction with the jerking of his loosely hanging cock. 

“You’ve been a little mouthy with me today,private,” Jesse moaned into Jack, his mouth taking the place of his fingers temporarily. “I know you’re wanting something more now, huh?” Jesse’s tongue lapped at Jack’s entrance, striving to pull every aching groan out of him that he could manage. A sharp slap across Jack’s ass jerked the man out of his stupor if only temporarily. Jesse’s tongue began digging into Jack, tasting every inch that he could, pushing his tongue farther in each small thrust. Another slap, a little harder. Jack began to rock his hips in time with the motion, so eager for the release he knew he was promised with this act. Jesse’s own cock bobbed at the action, desperate for contact from something, someone. 

Jesse pulled away finally from his feast and scrambled to the side to pull a small glass jar of lube from the bed. Applying the liquid slowly, he worked his shaft while staring into the needy eyes of his partner, moaning and shaking into the bed, face-first in a puddle of saliva. Jesse grinned at his partner who had no choice but to watch him satisfy himself while Jack waited, desperate and breaking and starving for release.

“Hlease hur. Use me.” Jack tried to say, eyes screaming with need and his body an eruption point waiting for its climax.

Jesse moved back into position, hovering the tip of his cock over Jack’s entrance. Teasingly, Jesse rubbed his slick head around Jack’s hole, and then barely pushing him open. He could feel Jack attempting to move his hips back onto Jesse’s hard-on, but a steadying hand and the restraints were making it near impossible. 

“You’re lucky I’m the givin’ sort.” Jesse said before sliding his cock past Jack’s hole, a loud gasp and accompanying moan the only noise Jesse needed. His shaft slid perfectly into Jack, the tightness and heat nearly driving him over the edge with one thrust. Jesse started slowly, thrusting his hips at a rhythm that kept him on the edge but didn’t send him over. Jack began to rock his hips in motion with his partner, every thrust hitting a crescendo in his mind, each time Jesse bottomed out causing the nerves in his body to scream out with pleasure.

Jesse gripped his hands on a restraint line that followed Jack’s spine, gripping the rope and lifting the older man’s chest and face off the bed. Jesse kept thrusting, pounding into Jack moaning and crying out his name with every slick covered motion into him. The pounding continued, however long didn’t matter to either of them, not then. Jack’s back arched, the restraints choking him and tightening across his chest so his breathing became more difficult.

“Jess – fuck, I..!”

It didn’t matter, the light-headed feeling and the stars he was chasing were too much and after one, two more thrusts his cock began to spend onto the sheets below him, crying and screaming through the gag as Jesse continued to barrage him with sensation, thrust after thrust.

“Jess!”

Jesse could feel his lover tighten and convulse around his as he came, body going slack and lose after his energy was spent. He repositioned to account for the no-longer rigid body, still pounding into Jack at a rhythmic pace. 

“You did so good for me Jackie, I’m so proud of you…” Jesse mumbled into Jack’s back, kissing the sweat that had accumulated on his skin. He moaned and bit into Jack’s flesh, the older man moaning in kind and rocking his hips once more to help his partner. With only a few more minutes of flesh against flesh and the building of sweat upon their bodies, Jesse bottomed out against Jack and came deep within him, yelling his name to the walls as his cock released its last measurement. 

A moment of silence filled the room before either dared stir from their position. Jesse removed himself from Jack, already going to work on the various knots and lines of ropes that still covered him. Wrists first, much to Jack’s relief, as he rubbed them and viewed the imprinted rope lines that would remain on him for hours. Next was legs, then the body harness and lastly the gag. Once he was fully released, Jack collapsed backwards onto the bed, motioning for Jesse to join him at his side.

“Thank you for that, Jess.” Jack said, sinking into the chilled sheets that rubbed against his still sensitive body. Jesse crawled over him, placing a gentle kiss against his partner, laying farther up the bed propped against the headboard.

“No need to thank me, darlin’,” Jesse said breathing into Jack’s now dried hair. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Jess.”

Jack hummed to himself, head placed on Jesse’s chest, mind occupied with the thoughts of the present only. Jesse and his smell of sandalwood and leather. Jesse and his warm embrace. Jesse, and the future that he wanted. The debrief could wait.

**Author's Note:**

> I know this is pretty tame, but this is actually my first time in over ten years writing fanfiction. Let me know if you liked the piece and I will try to put more out!
> 
> If you want a visualization of what ties were used in this scene, look up accessible hog ties and pretty much any variation of bondage harnesses


End file.
